Lullaby (Goodnight, My Angel)
by lizinprogress
Summary: Kurt and Blaine will always sing their daughter her favorite lullaby, whether she's 3 years old or 30. Shamelessly fluffy future fic.


_A/N: the song that inspired and is included in this story is "Lullaby (Goodnight, My Angel)" by Billy Joel._

_I'm sure it goes without saying, but the only thing I own is my imagination._

_Enjoy!_

* * *

"Climb into bed and get under the covers, sweetie. Papa will be in for songs and backrubs in just a minute."

In the hallway outside of his daughter's room, Kurt slid down the wall and sat on the floor. He hugged his knees to his chest and dropped his forehead onto his crossed arms. Taking a deep breath, he muttered to himself, _just a few more minutes. Almost there_. There was a bottle of white wine in the refrigerator, calling his name as a reward after a long, long day.

A day of solo parenting a three-year-old is not for the faint of heart, and Kurt had powered his way through several of them, recently. His husband, Blaine, was in final dress rehearsals for his most recent musical, which meant a lot of long days and late nights. And while Papa-daughter time included plenty of fun, it was physically and mentally exhausting without a second parent for backup or relief.

As three-(and-a-half!)-year-olds go, Ellie Hummel-Anderson was a delight. She was impossibly adorable, with her Daddy's curly dark hair and sparkling hazel eyes. She was kind and polite, always earning gushing compliments from waiters who had been worried to see a little kid at one of their brunch tables. She was funny and outgoing, eager to entertain a crowd with a song or a joke. And she was smart, oh was she smart. Clever and observant and articulate, Ellie blew people away with the things she understood and the conversations she wanted to have.

But as proud as Kurt was of his daughter's many amazing traits, he had quickly learned that having such a smart kid sometimes made things a little tricky. Ellie was not a child whose questions could be brushed off with a vague euphemism. She couldn't be distracted into forgetting about it. Not only did she stubbornly demand answers, but her memory was like a steel trap. Whatever you told her, she would remember and ask you about it again later. She would catch you in a misleading half-truth like an FBI investigator.

So, God help you, you'd better be ready to explain why plants need sunlight and how engines work and why that man in Central Park is shouting at the trees. You'd better be ready to answer those questions _all day long_. And while Kurt adored his daughter's natural and insatiable curiosity, a full day of answering questions about the nature of the universe had turned his brain to mush, and he wished desperately for a pause button so he could catch his breath.

There was one question, today, that caught Kurt completely by surprise.

In hindsight, he should have seen it coming a mile away. Kurt frequently told Ellie about her namesake - his late mother, Elizabeth. Elizabeth died when Kurt was only eight years old, and for many years, he ached at how few memories of her he seemed to have. But something about having a young child of his own brought vivid images flooding back, bringing life to memories he didn't even realize he had. As much for himself as for his daughter, he would tell stories about Grandma Elizabeth whenever he could.

Today had been a perfect spring day, and along the fence of one of Ellie's favorite playgrounds were gorgeous white and pink peonies.

"Grandma Elizabeth loved peonies," Kurt told Ellie. "They were her favorite flowers, and she had a whole garden full of them. I love it when they bloom in the spring, because the smell makes me think of her."

Ellie buried her nose in one of the blooms and inhaled the scent. She turned around to look at Kurt, tilting her head in the way she always did when she was about to ask a question.

"What happens when you die?"

Kurt never lied to Ellie about Elizabeth. He didn't bother with confusing phrases like "passed away." He learned early on that the truth was the least complicated thing to tell his daughter, so she knew that Grandma died when Papa was little. But somehow, this completely logical follow-up question felt like a punch to the chest.

Because he didn't have an answer.

Kurt didn't believe in God, he didn't believe in Heaven. In that moment, he almost wished he did, so that he would have a ready-made answer to give to his daughter, one that might be comforting if ill-defined. But he didn't believe. He wished he had a parenting manual that he could flip through to find the exact right answer, one that would satisfy his child's curiosity without needlessly scaring her. But he knew it didn't exist.

He did his best and said something about bodies not working anymore and memories living in our hearts, though he honestly isn't sure what came out of his mouth in that moment. Ellie nodded and ran off towards the slide, apparently satisfied for the moment, but Kurt knew his daughter. He knew the park wouldn't be the last he heard of it. And he was pretty sure he knew what the next question would be.

x x x

"Papa, can I have my backrubs now?"

Kurt lifted his head and pulled himself up off of the floor of their apartment. He walked back into his daughter's room, an explosion of pink and purple and butterflies and fairies. He sat on the edge of her bed and pulled the quilt up to her shoulders, brushed the curls out of her face.

"OK, princess, backrubs it is." He rubbed slow circles with the palm of his hand around and around her little back, just the way she liked it. He listened to her breathing slow down, and he waited. Some kids stall bedtime with one last drink of water or an extra hug, Ellie always had one last question.

"Papa?" squeaked the little voice. "Are you and Daddy going to die?" Kurt sighed. He may have known it was coming, but that didn't make it any easier to hear those words and those worries in his little girl's voice.

"Well, honey, everybody dies sometime." His heart felt like it could break apart just saying the words, but he knew he had to stay calm and matter-of-fact. "But usually it's not until people are very old, so I think Daddy and I will be here for a long, long time."

"But Grandma wasn't very old." Darn that clever kid, she doesn't miss a thing.

"I know, sweetie. Grandma got very sick and her body stopped working, even though she wasn't very old. Sometimes that happens."

"I would feel sad if you and Daddy died." Kurt almost choked on the lump in his throat, but willed it to stay down for a few minutes longer.

"Me too, sweet girl. But you would always, always know how much Daddy and I love you, right?"

"More than the stars in the sky?"

"More than the stars in the sky. Forever and ever." Tears prickled his eyes and he took a shuddering breath before leaning down to kiss his beautiful, amazing child on the cheek. "OK, should we sing our special song?"

"Yes!" said Ellie, happily snuggling into her pillow. Her fathers sang to her all the time, but there was only one that was their most special song, the one they'd sung to her since the day she came home from the hospital.

Kurt closed his eyes and wondered if parenting would ever get any easier, if it would ever feel like your heart wasn't walking around outside of your chest.

_Probably not_, he thought, as he began to sing.

_Goodnight, my angel_

_Time to close your eyes_

_And save these questions for another day_

_I think I know what you've been asking me_

_I think you know what I've been trying to say_

_I promised I would never leave you_

_And you should always know_

_Wherever you may go_

_No matter where you are_

_I never will be far away_

* * *

Blaine was sitting at the piano, working his way through a new song, when Ellie stormed into the apartment. She threw her backpack violently in the direction of the couch, stomped to her room, and slammed the door so hard that Blaine wondered if all of the hinges were still intact.

It was only the second week of high school. Blaine wondered, not for the first time, if his daughter's teenage years would be the death of him. She was still the same bright, kind, amazing girl he had always known, but the last couple of years had cranked the drama up to eleven. It was unpredictable, when it would come and go, and it left Blaine's head spinning.

He heard music coming from Ellie's room. Blaine had taught her to be quite the curator of iTunes playlists, and, recognizing which one she had put on, he took a guess that today's mood was more anger than sadness. He got up from the piano and made his way to the kitchen. A few minutes later, he knocked on Ellie's door. She opened it and he could see in her darkened eyes that she was still upset.

"Hey kiddo. Want a snack?" He held out a glass of chocolate milk and a plate of Mint Milanos as if to say, _I come in peace._

"Thanks, Daddy," she said, her eyes dropping to the floor, still breathing heavy from whatever had made her so mad.

"Want to talk about it?" Blaine asked gently. Ellie briefly looked up at him before returning her gaze to the carpeting.

"...not yet." Blaine nodded, knowing better to push before she had calmed down, and handed over the milk and cookies.

"Papa has to work late tonight, so it's just you and me for dinner. Want to get Chinese food?" Blaine's eyes twinkled. He and Ellie had a tradition of indulging in the kinds of junk food Kurt refused to touch whenever they were on their own.

A tiny smile teased the corner of Ellie's mouth. "Can I get orange chicken and an egg roll?"

"You bet. I'll tell you when it's time to eat."

An hour and a half later, Blaine could see the green and gold back in his daughter's eyes as she scooped food onto her plate, and decided it was safe.

"So, what got you so upset today?"

"Nothing," Ellie grumbled half-heartedly.

"Well, clearly, since you almost took your door off its hinges." Ellie huffed in annoyance.

"There was just this stupid girl at school, and she really made me mad." Blaine kept his gaze fixed on his daughter. There was no way the story was that simple. Ellie groaned and rolled her eyes when she realized she wasn't getting off the hook.

"She... ugh... she made fun of me for having two dads, okay?"

Blaine's stomach dropped. It's not as though he was exactly shocked - he had known his fair share of bullies and hateful comments, and despite all of the progress that had been made since he was a teenager, he knew those kinds of people were still out there. But he had always wished they could keep Ellie in a protective bubble of tolerance. They lived in New York City, where there were no shortage of other two-dad families. They sent her to progressive schools with strong anti-bullying policies and social justice programs. Of course they couldn't avoid every idiot in the city, but Ellie had largely been spared the kind of personal harassment that her fathers had known when they were young. Until now, apparently.

"What..." Blaine cleared his throat, "what did she say?"

"It was really dumb, Daddy. She said something like, 'too bad your own mother didn't even like you enough to keep you, and you had to go live with two... gay guys.'" Ellie dropped her gaze back to her plate, not wanting to look her father in the eye.

"She didn't say 'gay guys,' did she."

"No."

Blaine's blood started to boil as his papa-bear instincts kicked in. He had learned to let most words roll off his back years ago, but it was another thing entirely when it was directed at _his baby_.

"First of all," Blaine started, forcefully, "you know that nothing could be further from the truth. You know that you were the most wanted kid in-" Ellie rolled her eyes again.

"_Oh my god_, Daddy, I _know_. Geez, the number of times you've told me how I was made is seriously embarrassing. You and Papa and Aunt Rachel tell the story every year on my birthday."

"Well," Blaine's righteous indignation was flaring in his eyes, "it's nothing to be embarrassed about. We are very proud of our family."

"I know, Daddy," Ellie said, more gently. "I know. I'm not embarrassed about our family or any of that, though I wish you would maybe spare me some of the details about the process." Blaine smirked. Alright, so maybe they could gloss over the biology lesson on surrogacy the next time the story came up.

"And anyways," Ellie continued. "This girl was an idiot and I told her so."

"Oh? What did you say?"

Ellie sat up straight, squared her shoulders, and looked her father in the eye.

"I told her if ignorance is bliss, she must be the happiest person on earth."

Blaine smiled and felt a fierce pride filling up his chest. "Nice one, kid."

Ellie grinned. "Then I told her to get her stupid meerkat face out of my way because I had better things to do than waste my breath on someone who thinks flannel is a legitimate fashion choice."

Blaine almost choked on his kung pao chicken. "You... what?"

Ellie looked a little sheepish. "Too much?"

"No," Blaine said, laughing and shaking his head. "Not too much. Just make sure you tell Papa that story when he gets home. And Ellie?"

"Yeah, Daddy?"

"I'm really proud of you."

"Thanks, Daddy."

Blaine wanted to keep talking about it. He wanted to scoop his little girl up in his arms and tell her how amazing she was, how the world is unfair and full of idiots and how he and Kurt wanted to keep her locked away and protected from all of it. He wanted to launch into a lecture on equality and diversity and respect and rights and love above all else. He wanted to go on at length about how ridiculous high school is, how it really does get better, how _she_ was so much better than all of the drama.

But he didn't. He could see, in that moment, that she already knew.

Blaine remembered all of the times he had questioned his ability to be a good father. All of those moments of insecurity, the situations where he was just winging it, flying by the seat of his pants and hoping he just wasn't screwing up too badly. It was moments like this that it hit him. _Maybe we're doing alright, after all_.

x x x

Later that night, dishes long since cleared and homework checked, Blaine knocked on Ellie's door to say goodnight.

"Come in," she called, quietly. Blaine noticed the music had changed to one of Ellie's more melancholy playlists, and was startled to see her beautiful eyes were red-rimmed and puffy.

"Hey, what's the matter?" he asked as he sat on her bed and pulled her into a hug.

"I just..." she hesitated. "I know that girl was really stupid, and I know I stood up to her, and I know she's not worth it, but..."

"But it still sucks," Blaine finished.

"Yeah."

"Yeah, it does," Blaine said, sitting back so he could look his daughter in the eye. "And I wish people like that didn't exist, or that I could keep them away from you." He reached up and smoothed the curls out of her face. He marveled at this age, how she sometimes shocked him with how grown up she had become. And yet, in this moment, there was still a little girl in that face, looking up at her Daddy. "But you, my dear, are so much stronger than them. You are amazing, and smart, and brave, and I love you."

Ellie gave him a watery smile. "More than the stars in the sky?"

"More than the stars in the sky. Always." Blaine kissed her forehead and squeezed her tight once more, feeling like his heart might burst. "Now, will you let your old man sing you our special song?"

Ellie's eyeroll lacked true teenage conviction as she snuggled up against her father. "I guess, Daddy. If you really want to."

Blaine turned off Ellie's stereo and tucked the covers around her. He rubbed slow circles into her back as her breath evened out. He knew these moments were fewer and farther between these days, that she didn't always want him to tuck her in and sing her to sleep. But when she did, he reveled in it, letting it fill up his heart with gratitude at this incredible child of his.

_Goodnight, my angel_

_Now it's time to sleep_

_And still so many things I want to say_

_Remember all the songs you sang for me_

_When we went sailing on an emerald bay_

_And like a boat out on the ocean_

_I'm rocking you to sleep_

_The water's dark and deep _

_Inside this ancient heart_

_You'll always be a part of me_

* * *

The rooftop patio of the restaurant in Brooklyn was lit around the perimeter with tiny multicolored lights, and the centerpieces on the paper-covered tables were cheerful bouquets of Gerbera daisies. The sounds of the street below were muted, while up on the roof, conversation, laughter, and the clinking of wine glasses filled the warm summer air.

Kurt stood quietly off to the side for a moment, watching the party and soaking it in. There was his father, Burt, older and slower but with the same enthusiastic hugs for family and friends. There was Blaine, grinning and gesturing wildly as he told a story to Carole and Finn. And there was Ellie, his little girl all grown up, fingers intertwined with her fiance, Matt.

It was surreal, standing at a rehearsal dinner, playing the role of Father-of-the-Bride. Certainly he remembered every step that brought them to this point - the first time Ellie brought Matt home from college to visit, the graduation dinner with both families. Ellie informing her fathers that she and Matt were getting an apartment together a year later, and Matt's shaking voice when he sat down and asked for Kurt and Blaine's blessing last fall.

Still, Kurt felt like all he had to do was blink and he and Blaine were still newlyweds, themselves. Or that Ellie was still a kindergartener, bringing home stacks of crayon drawings every day. But no, he was a man in his fifties, still fabulous if a little gray around the edges. And there stood his Ellie, a grown woman, ready to get married.

Kurt discretely dabbed at the tears that threatened the corners of his eyes. He looked up and caught Blaine's gaze from across the room. His Blaine, still, after all these years. Those same warm eyes, same bright smile, same penchant for hair gel and bowties. More than thirty years after they met on that staircase at Dalton, one look at Blaine could still make Kurt's heart beat a little faster.

x x x

Blaine was half-listening to Finn's story as he scanned the crowd for Kurt. His breath caught as he spotted his husband on the other side of the patio. He was stunning, as always, in a deep purple button-up shirt, sleeves rolled up to his elbows, two buttons undone at the collar. His charcoal slacks were tailored to perfection around his slim hips, and he was lit from behind by the tiny lights on the edge of the patio rail. Blaine marveled at the fact that, for all of his jokes about being timeless, Kurt truly didn't seem to age. He was just as radiant as ever. Blaine could tell, though, that Kurt was lost in thought. When he saw the handkerchief come out of Kurt's pocket, Blaine caught his eye and gave him a sympathetic smile. He excused himself and made his way through the small crowd to Kurt's side.

"Hey, you," Blaine greeted his husband with a comforting squeeze on the arm.

"Hey," managed Kurt in a scratchy voice. He cleared his throat and tried for casual. "Beautiful party, isn't it?"

"Lovely, of course," Blaine replied, standing next to his husband, looking out at the gathering of some of their closest friends and family. "You hanging in there?"

"Yeah, yeah I am. I'm really happy to be here, truly. And I'm thrilled for Ellie and Matt. Just getting hit with a little wave of nostalgia, you know?"

"I do," said Blaine, kindly. "Remember our rehearsal dinner?"

"Oh god," Kurt laughed. "Which part? When Puck made a toast that ended with, 'and may all your ups and downs be between the sheets' in front of my grandmother? Or when Rachel and Santana serenaded us with a Christina Aguilera song?"

"Well, those parts were pretty awesome," chuckled Blaine. "Though I was thinking more about your dad's speech. How proud he was of us, how happy he was. I think I have a new understanding of what he meant."

Kurt slipped his arm around Blaine's waist and pulled him closer, taking a deep breath as a few more tears prickled his eyes. The two men watched as their daughter laughed with her friends, and then leaned over to share a brief kiss with her fiance, pure adoration on both of their faces. "Yeah, me too."

x x x

Two hours later, with dinner and dessert and several rounds of speeches and toasts completed, Blaine and Kurt were squeezed on either side of their daughter in the back of a cab, headed for their apartment. In a nod to tradition, Ellie wanted to spend the last night before the wedding at her fathers' house. Her bridesmaids would join her in the morning to get ready together, but tonight was just the three of them.

Once home, all three Hummel-Andersons gathered in their pajamas around the kitchen island, with a pint of mint chocolate chip ice cream and three spoons.

"So, Miss Elizabeth," said Blaine through a mouthful of ice cream. "You ready for this?"

Ellie grinned brightly. "I really am. I mean, all of the details have been settled forever, everything is where it's needs to be, and it's even supposed to be a nice day tomorrow. I'm a little nervous about standing in front of all those people, but I'm sure it'll be fine."

"Well, that's the wedding," interjected Kurt. "What about the 'getting married' part? Ready for that, too?"

"Honestly, Papa, that's the easy part. Marrying Matt - that's the part that makes me feel calm. The party is a little stressful, but Matt? I haven't had a single doubt."

Kurt and Blaine looked up at one another over their spoons with shining eyes and matching smiles. Yes, they knew that feeling.

"Geez, guys," Ellie said with a playful groan. "It's been thirty-some years and you still make that face at each other. But, alright, it's the night before my wedding. Time to share the secret of your mildly-disgusting-yet-enviable happiness." Ellie's smile fell just a bit, and her eyes became serious. "Look, I've seen other couples, other friends' parents. They don't all look at each other the way you still do. How do I get what you have?"

Kurt sighed. "Well, honey, you don't just get it. You have to make it. And you and Matt are on your way - you're good for each other, you respect each other, and you're madly in love." Ellie smiled at the thought. "But marriage, the long haul, isn't always pretty or easy. It can be messy and prickly and frustrating and just plain hard, no matter how much you love each other."

Blaine nodded, remembering darker times when nothing seemed to work right. When both of them were working too much and talking too little. When there were big questions they couldn't agree on. When arguments about ordering Thai food were actually arguments about money and boundaries and respect.

"I think," Blaine said as he picked up Kurt's train of thought, "that the trick is to remember that you're on the same team. That's the most important thing you can do. The two of you are partners, and no one is ever going to look out for you and take care of you like your partner." He looked up at Kurt, fierce devotion in his eyes. "If you can try to look at every challenge as 'you and me, together, versus the problem' instead of 'you, the problem, versus me,' then you're miles ahead of a lot of people." Blaine reached across the island for Kurt's hand and gave it a squeeze.

"And don't stop holding hands," smiled Kurt.

"Or saying 'I love you,'" added Blaine.

"Or making each other laugh."

"Or having sex."

"Daddy!" Ellie cried. "Oh my god, seriously?" Kurt dropped his head and groaned as Blaine grinned wickedly.

"Seriously, honey?" Kurt agreed with Ellie.

"Of course I'm serious!" said Blaine, indignantly. "Dead serious! It's important."

"Yes, but is that seriously what you are saying to our daughter?"

"She's a grown woman and she's getting married tomorrow and wants to know the secret to a happy marriage. So yes, yes I am."

"OK, and on that note, I'm going to bed," said Ellie as she stood up, stretching and tossing her spoon into the sink. "Love you, Daddy. Love you, Papa." She gave each of them a kiss in turn and headed for her old bedroom. "Thanks for the ice cream!"

"Love you, sweetheart!" called Kurt. "Sleep well, we'll see you in the morning." He collected the other two spoons and put them in the dishwasher, and put the half-empty ice cream carton back into the freezer. He turned and reached out his hand to the curly-haired man who he was still madly in love with, so many years later. "Come on, old man. Our daughter is getting married tomorrow and I don't want to have tired eyes in those pictures."

Blaine pulled back on Kurt's hand until they were standing nose-to-nose, brought his own darker hand up to Kurt's pale cheek, and leaned in for a kiss. It was slow and soft and familiar - not many surprises left when you've been kissing the same lips for more than three decades - but it was home, and both men wrapped their arms around each other. As they pulled apart, they kept their foreheads pressed together.

"Thank you for marrying me," Blaine whispered.

"Thank you for loving me," Kurt replied.

"Always."

"Always."

x x x

Forty-five minutes later, evening skincare completed - Kurt was absolutely not joking about wanting to look good in his daughter's wedding photos - Kurt and Blaine were climbing under the covers when there was a soft knock at the door.

"Come in," called Kurt.

"Hey," said a tired and slightly sheepish Ellie as she opened the door.

"You OK, honey?" asked Blaine, concern in his voice. "Do you need something?"

"Um, I just was having a hard time falling asleep, and I was wondering..." she hesitated, sounding just for a moment like a little girl again. Blaine smiled wistfully at the memory.

"Need a little snuggle, kiddo?"

Ellie smiled. "Yeah."

Kurt grinned at his daughter and his husband. "OK, make room. Ellie sandwich time."

Blaine and Kurt scooted towards the edges of their (thankfully large) bed, and Ellie climbed up into the middle, slower than she had as a child, but almost as eager for the hugs. She wiggled into the pillow as her fathers pulled the comforter up around all three of them, and soon they were all wrapped up in a tangle of arms in a three-person hug.

"Thank you, guys," said Ellie, quietly. "Thank you for the advice, and for being amazing dads. And in case I forget to say it tomorrow, thank you for the awesome party." All three of them giggled.

"You're welcome, sweetheart," Kurt said as a fresh set of tears sprung into his eyes. "It is absolutely our pleasure. We love you so much."

"More than the stars in the sky," added Blaine, his voice threatening to break.

Ellie squeezed her dads as tight as she could, trying not to cry, herself. "Can I make one more request before I go back to my own bed?"

"Of course," the two men said together.

"Think I could have our special song, one more time?" She barely got the question out before the tears were streaming down her face, and that was all it took for Kurt and Blaine to fall apart completely. The trio clung to each other, overwhelmingly happy and painfully sad at the same time.

A few minutes passed, and the tears slowed down until they were sniffling and reaching for tissues and laughing at their mutual breakdown. Blaine looked up at Kurt, smiled, and squeezed his hand. They were ready to sing for their little girl, one more time.

_Goodnight, my angel_

_Now it's time to dream_

_And dream how wonderful your life will be_

_Someday your child may cry_

_And if you sing this lullaby_

_Then in your heart_

_There will always be a part of me_

* * *

"Would you just leave, already?" Kurt said, exasperated, gently bouncing the tiny bundle in his arms.

"We're going, we're going," replied Ellie, flustered, as Matt attempted to help her into her coat. "Just remember, he likes the fastest setting on the swing. And make sure you warm up the bottle before you give it to him or he'll scream. And the diapers are next to his crib, and-"

"Elizabeth," said Blaine, putting his hands on his daughter's shoulders and looking into the matching set of hazel eyes. "Go. We will be fine, your son will be fine. And _you_ will be fine. Go have a nice dinner with your husband, and we will see you later." He placed a kiss firmly on her forehead and all but shoved her out of the door. Matt looked over his shoulder as he took his wife's hand and gave a grateful smile to his fathers-in-law, and Blaine grinned and waved as he shut the door behind them.

Kurt was beaming, walking around the apartment narrating every thought in his soothing voice, six-week-old grandson Jonah content in his arms.

"I remember when you used to walk around with Ellie like that," Blaine remarked. "Though I seem to remember her screaming a lot more, and it being in the middle of the night"

"I think that's the best part about being grandfathers," Kurt grinned devilishly. "We get to babysit for these delightful little windows of time, and then we get to give him back to his parents and go home and sleep as much as we want."

Blaine walked up behind Kurt and wrapped his arms around the taller man, hooking his chin over his shoulder, and looking down at the most beautiful grandson the world had ever known. "How did we get so lucky?" he murmured into Kurt's neck.

"I have no idea." Kurt shook his head in awe. "But every time I think it can't get any better, somehow it does." He turned around and passed Jonah into Blaine's eager arms, and they all moved to sit down on the sofa.

"Honestly," Kurt continued in a near whisper, "I stopped you on that staircase at Dalton and my whole world changed. You kissed me in the senior commons and I didn't think I'd ever need to breathe again. I still remember the first time you told me you loved me."

"At the Lima Bean, of course," Blaine smiled.

"At the Lima Bean. You took me by surprise, I wasn't expecting you to say it, just out of the blue with that dreamy look on your face." Kurt grinned at the memory.

"And you said it back."

"Of course I did! I was madly in love with you." Kurt's smile got softer, his sincere blue eyes locking with the hazel ones that had captured his heart so many years ago. He leaned in gently over his sleeping grandson to kiss the love of his life. "I have loved you since the day we met, and I have never stopped."

"Thank you," Kurt continued, "for this wonderful life. For our home and our family and for doing every little bit of it together."

"My love, it's an honor," Blaine replied, leaning in for another kiss. "And many more years yet to come. I mean, really, we are going to take the retirement home circuit by storm." They both laughed, knowing they could do anything at all with the other man by their side.

"Oops," said Kurt, as the baby startled awake and began to cry. "I guess Jonah didn't find that idea nearly so funny."

"Shhh, sweet boy, you're okay," Blaine cooed. "Hey Kurt, want to see if he calms down the same way his mother used to?"

Kurt gave his husband a knowing smile and curled up next to him on the sofa, resting his head on the other man's shoulder.

They took a breath together and looked down at their grandson, and began the same song they'd used and loved for decades. Blaine rubbed circles onto the infant's tiny back as Kurt planted a gentle kiss onto his soft hair, and Jonah immediately calmed and drifted back to sleep, the sound of his grandfathers' voices in his ear.

_Someday we'll all be gone_

_But lullabies go on and on..._

_They never die_

_That's how you_

_And I_

_Will be_

* * *

**A/N: Big thanks to the amazing kellyb321 for being my very first reader (and proof-reader), and for encouraging me to give this a try in the first place. *mwah!***

**And thank YOU for reading! A review would make my day, you know...**


End file.
